


Don't be mean

by VereorInHell



Series: Welcome To The Blitzkrieg Family [3]
Category: Beyblade
Genre: Boys Love - Freeform, Demolition Boys AU, M/M, Sexy as hell because Tala's and Bryan, Spencer being adorable as fuck, adorableness, dirty talking, family life, poor Tala, sassy Bryan, smut scene, the smut you wanted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-27 21:39:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15033860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VereorInHell/pseuds/VereorInHell
Summary: Third part in the Demolition Boys Family AU series. This is where the goodies finally make their appearance. Contains: dirty talking, adorable family life scenes for Demolition Boys (in this AU so bunch of adorable kids too), Bryan being sassy, Tala having to put up with him.





	Don't be mean

**Author's Note:**

> /text/: sms

That morning, Tala wakes up with more than just the usual, dream induced state of arousal.

He opens his eyes and he knows, without need to check, that he’s fully hard. He can feel himself, erection stiffened and painfully pressed between his and Bryan’s body, on whom he’s lying.

He closes his eyes again, mentally swearing against the lack of time, and at the same time he raises a prayer to whatever deity has let Bryan keep on sleeping, deeply enough not to notice Tala’s condition.

He re-opens his eyes, appreciating the smooth expanse of Bryan’s chest, just a little bit of hair in the area between and above the nipples, on his so well-defined pectorals.

Oh man, how much does Tala love to suck on the skin there…

His clear eyes travel lower, along Bryan’s eight pack, a valley of dips and dimples that ends so deliciously in the v-shape of his groin, where the dark blond hairs can’t dream to really hide the semi-formed erection that the Falcon, much like many other man, gets in the mornings.

Tala’s mouth waters.

He really, really loves to suck on _that_ , and he is well aware that, when he takes his sweet time worshiping that piece of art that is Bryan’s hard cock, his own pleasure in the performance is well obvious.

He just loves to give head, always had, always will. Even with the girls, it was probably his most favorite part of the whole act of having sex, even before being in this relationship with Bryan. He had lost track of the time he’d knelt in front of a girl, pushed her with her back against a well, and used his tongue to make her come, her tights on his shoulders. He could spend hours, licking and fingering at a girl’s clit, or devouring his way up inside her, opening her up and then drinking her down. He has always loved to make them come trembling, to have them cry and shout his name, clutching at his hair.

Now he's found out he loses it even more when he gets his mouth filled to capacity, and then some, by Bran’s dick, with the Falcon’s hands fisting at his hair and dragging him down on his shaft to swallow more, spit dribbling down his chin, tears on his cheeks, when he skull-fucks Tala like the redhead loves.

And now he’s getting even more hot and bothered, and he should stop this line of thinking, because he has not time to go down on Bryan and wake him up by sucking on his dick like it was a lollipop (and in fact, Tala never really liked lollipops much, but, boy, this one he sure does).

It doesn’t help that his traitor brain brings up the oh so sweet memory of the ass-pounding he got, last time he did…

‘Enough, brain!’ he scolds himself, and, with all the steel self-control that the Abbey has drilled into him (and positively not thinking about Bryan drilling something else into him), he pushes up on his arms and slithers towards the adjacent bathroom.

He’s tempted to rub one out in the shower, and he actually checks the time, considering it. He doesn’t have the time to open and finger-fuck himself like he would love to, but he can always jerk himself off and think of Bryan fucking him.

Does he have enough time for that? Well, he does, as long as he drives to the office where he’s working for his stage, instead of taking the train. He usually avoids driving, because the only cars available at the school are the van they usually take the kids out with, a giant SUV or a very flashy orange Lamborghini (which, incidentally, was Kai’s present to him for his last birthday. Yes, the guy definitely feels like he has something to make up for, and no, Tala doesn’t think he is totally wrong).

So, flashy orange supercar is option A, and it doesn’t really sound like his sober self, at least according to the idea of himself he’s been feeding to his colleagues and superiors. Option B, the train, is much more sober, and keeps unnecessary attention off of him. But, the downside is: it requires time. And the temptation of indulging in some of that precious time, right now, is becoming to much to resist to, when his erection is throbbing almost painfully between his legs and he needs some release, like, yesterday.

‘Guess I’m back to flashy bitch me for the day’ he decides, smirking and firmly enclosing his fist around himself.

He gives his cock a couple of strong strokes, then closes his eyes, setting for a slower rhythm. He braces himself on the wall with the free arm, bending the elbow against the cold tiles of the shower wall.

He thinks of Bryan’s mouth, which is just as incredible as his penis. Tala loves giving head, but also loves being at the receiving end of it, and Bryan always, always makes him scream. Bryan, they found out, is more of a moaner, both when he tops and when he bottoms. Tala loves to take him apart by setting a slow rhythm, forcing the Falcon to keep eyes locked with him while the redhead fucks him, and it never fails to break Bryan’s walls down, every single time.

On the other hand, maybe because Tala himself admits his own personality to be a bit more… flashy and loud than the Falcon’s, Tala is definitely a screamer in bed. Well, not just in bed actually, but especially in bed. As in, in sex. They are actually lucky that he loves to be gagged just as much, or they would have been caught an embarrassingly high number of times.

Tala brings up the memory of Bryan on his knees, sucking on the redhead’s cock while kneading at his cheeks.

Sometimes he would add a finger and rub it on Tala’s hole, teasing him until Tala has to beg the bastard to just give it to him, and only then would Bryan slip that damned finger in. Tala mixes memory and imagination, and the picture he comes up with definitely helps quickening the pace of this thing he’s got going: Bryan, on his knees in front of him, that pretty mouth wrapped around Tala’s dick, swallowing it down. Cheeky, loving green eyes, looking up at him, daring him not to scream and not to come. Himself, fisting Bryan’s thick blond hair with one hand, the other slapped against the wall he’s leaning against, to keeps himself up.

He can hear himself moaning, and well, maybe he gets off on knowing he is loud and moans like a wanton whore. He jerks himself faster, biting his lip, and he hunches forward, imagining Bryan feeding him his middle finger. He would gladly open his mouth for that finger, and lavish it with all the care in this world. Then Bryan, still sucking on him, and still holding his stare, would remove that long finger from Tala’s mouth, and would stick it into Tala’s hole, brutally pushing against clenching muscles, until he’d find Tala’s prostate. He would stab on it with the point of his finger mercilessly, hitting it until he’d make Tala scream.

As expected, the mental image is strong enough to send Tala over the edge, and he bites on his own teeth, sagging against the cold tiles of the shower and coming hard.

He trembles against the shower wall for a few seconds, then forces himself to take a proper shower. He exits the bathroom in five minutes, drying himself up while silently slipping back into his own room. He dresses himself and double checks the time: he can’t stay and wait till the time the kids will have their breakfast time, which is something that always saddens him a bit, but at least he’s got time for a coffee.

In the kitchen he finds Spencer, already working on the breakfast. The tallest member of the Demolition Boys is also the earliest riser, not that also makes him a morning person. Actually, he resembles much more a giant, blondish grizzly bear in the mornings, then at any other given time during the day.

Spencer greets him with a nod, acknowledging his presence, and pours a cup of coffee before thrusting it directly in his captain’s hands. The tall man points at the table with his chin, and Tala obeys, not really in the mood to underline how he doesn’t have the time to stop and eat solid food along with the coffee. Still, he doesn’t protest, and Spencer slides under his face, buried in the cup of steaming black drink, a plate with two pancakes.

Tala’s brain process a few things all at the same time: first of all, if it wasn’t Tala, but anybody else, Spencer would have put a huge mountain of food on that dish, but, because he knows Tala is on the rush, and because Spencer doesn’t like to force the redhead to eat more than what Spencer deems necessary, the portion of pancakes is more modest. Which is already something that triggers a small smile of gratitude on Tala’s mouth.

Then, the second thing the captain processes is… “Are these cranberries?”

Spencer grunts, facing the stove and back at tending to the cooking.

Tala is the only one in the entire house who likes pancakes with cranberries. The fact that Spencer is making them just for him seriously touches the redhead’s heart, and the smile widens on his face. He decides he has the time to eat the whole thing, after all, and proceeds to do so.

“I’m making the kids start with English literature, today” Spencer, still giving Tala view of his broad shoulders, announces.

He keeps his voice quiet, and it doesn’t sound much more gravel than normal, but Tala can hear the sleepiness in it. He frowns. Is Spencer.. not sleeping well?

“Cool” he replies, cutting another bite of his pancake. He takes a sip from his coffee, careful not to spill any on his immaculate white shirt: “which author?”

“I was thinking Beowulf. They already had a general introductory part on what can be considered the earliest works of modern British literature, so I thought I’d go with something more…” he pauses, looking for the word and then winks at his captain: “catching”

Tala nods, smirking: he loves Beowulf, and Spencer knows it.

“Are you ok, by the way? I mean, in general. You look beaten” he says, trying to cover the careful looks he’s throwing at his blond friend with a casual tone.

Spencer nods: “Don’t worry, Tala. it’s just the usual shit. I’ll have forgotten about it before noon” he answers with a dismissive gesture of the hand holding a spatula.

Tala nods, accepting the answer. All of them still have nightmares from their lives at the Abbey, some even from before. He doesn't need to intrude in Spencer’s privacy, when it’s unfortunately normal, for all of them, kids included, to have to cope with a messy past. He doesn’t want to pry: Spencer is a big guy, and takes care of himself probably better than what Tala could say about himself.

He finishes his food quickly, and leaves with a rushed ‘see you later’. He can hear someone walking down the stairs, headed towards the kitchen, most likely Ian and Valeryia.

He doesn’t have the time to say hello, though, and he rushes to the garage. Tala drives fast (no other way to drive a Lambo, really), barely respecting the limits. He finds parking in a not too visible spot, where hopefully not too many people will see him exiting the bright car and leaving it.

Of course, by the time he exits the elevator that takes him from the lobby to his floor, half of the building of the company already knows about the orange Lambo someone has parked nearby, and half of them also knows that the driver is Tala.

He sits at his table and starts working, resolutely ignoring every comments or direct questions, and focuses only on his work.

Until a couple of hours later, when his personal cellphone subtly vibrates in his pants’ pocket.

He’s been writing a report on a topic that he has been assigned by his university professor, the reason why he has been sent to work in this company as an intern, and possibly also the topic of his future thesis.

He is busy, and he is dedicated to the writing that working on such topic requires. But.

A text from home could mean trouble.

What if someone of the kids got sick? They rarely do, but it can happen. What if one of the other three Demolition Boys is sick, or hurt? What if something worse has happened, what if one of the guys has been triggered into fight/killer mode, and the kids are around? What if, what if, what if…

He struggles very hard not to come up with the apocalyptic scenario of Boris escaping prison, tracking the school and killing all of the boys. Or worse, taking them back.

Tala grabs his phone and checks.

It is Bryan…

But it’s not about troubles.

/Don’t think I haven’t heard you jerking off in my shower, you little bitch. Imma make you pay, as soon as you bring that tight sexy ass home,just you wait/.

The redhead grins mentally, remaining perfectly stoic on the outside.

/Oh yeah? And what would you do to me?/ He types back.

He knows he shouldn’t.

Instigate Bryan, waste his time instead of writing about his precious topic, risk getting caught at work while wasting time, _instigate_ _Bryan_.

But, god, how can he resist?

/First of all, I’m going to spank that attitude out of you./

Tala briefly closes his eyes, just for a second, unable to hide the overwhelming sensation that creeps inside. He opens them back just as quickly, back in control.

The funny thing is that, even after being hurt and hit and basically tortured for years in the Abbey, he really, really gets off on being spanked. It’s embarrassing, the way it turns him on. And obviously Bryan knows too damn well.

‘Oh god, what have I started?’

He feels light-headed already, his breathing starting to trouble him.

/Then I’m going to push you down on your knees. You like being on your knees, don’t you? My sweet little slut. You’d live on your knees. What wouldn’t you do to be pushed down like a bitch, uh Tala?/

Bryan adds a winky emoji.

/Of course, once on your knees, it’s important to put your mouth into a good use. You like that, don’t you Tala? Being fed my dick? You always love that. Especially when you’re on your knees, you get this face, all starry eyes, I should make you beg for it./

‘Damn Bryan, why do you know me so well?!’

Tala swallows a mouthful of saliva.

/I wanted to suck your dick this morning, so bad…/ he types back, biting hard on his own teeth.

It takes five seconds for Bryan to reply, and then two texts dings on Tala’s phone.

/Damn, Tala/

/Why didn’t you? You know I sure as hell don’t mind waking up to your mouth…/

/I know, but I really, really didn’t have time… /

Tala hopes the text doesn’t give away the whiny tone of the sentence, like he knows his voice would.

Bryan replies with an angry emoji: /I hate your job/

Tala smirks: /At least you’re not getting a stiffie in a place where at least ten people would immediately notice!/

Bryan sends another emoji, this time a winky one: /Especially if you’re wearing dress pants. Not that I complain, you look great in dress pants. I’m definitely fucking you in those. Actually, I’m definitely fucking you in those pants, today. Right after I’ve spanked you./

Tala has to close his eyes again, to calm his breathing.

When he opens them again, he realizes that Bryan isn’t done with him. And that, for Tala, means troubles, because, never let anyone say Bryan would refrain from getting on the sadistic side, when it comes to teasing his redheaded captain.

/Oh yes, I would spank you in those pants. But then I’d have to push them down on your tights, to spank you properly… But I wouldn’t take them off. And then I would push you on your knees, feed you my dick, make you spit over it, drool over that fancy shirt of yours. No, you know, I’m going to open it, undo a few buttons, or, hell, even all of them. At some point I guess I would have to undo them all, leave that shirt open, framing you. And what a sweet picture you’d make… pants on your tights, shirt all open, spit dribbling all over your bare chest. Might even finger your nipples with your spit…/

‘Holy. God. Sweet. Jesus. Bryan.’

Tala swallows down air, and puts down his phone for a whole minute, screen locked. He tries so hard to regain his perfect composure he’s so famous for, and that he’s worked so hard in the Abbey to achieve. And he manages to, but, man, it’s… difficult. He was going to say hard, but, at the moment, hardness is a feature that characterizes something else in this particular circumstance.

And he needs to put that into check, too, because, no way he’s going to get hard in these slacks. He loves these slacks, ok? Also, it’d be gross, and embarrassing, and even if the office is empty at the moment, like hell he’s letting himself getting caught with an erection in his pants. Which are also fucking classy, and expensive, and he really, really likes them. He is not..

‘Ah, fuck you’ He can feel himself impossibly hard already.

/Wassup love?/ Bryan taunts him: /Don’t you have anything to say? Are you imagining your mouth so full that you can’t even speak any longer?/

‘Argh, fuck _me_..’

He’s so glad that he has developed this incredible ability to keep a perfect pokerface, even when inside he’s getting a complete meltdown, because, Jesus, he’s started leaking…

His poor pants..

/Baaabe…/ Bryan whines.

/Don’t call me that/ Tala types back, trying to regain some composure, if not some leverage, or dignity.

Two emojis: a devil and a laughing face.

/Leaking already, love?/ Bryan asks.

/Fuck you/ Tala types back, angry at himself for not being able to come up with a better reply.

Nothing like insulting Bryan right now would let the blond know that he’s so right about the redhead’s current situation.

/No/ he adds, but they both know he’s lying.

/You so are/

Tala can practically _hear_ Bryan gloating.

Fuck, why does Bryan have free time right now? Why is he not teaching at the moment? Why is he not surrounded by a bunch of kids, so that he wouldn’t be able to taunts Tala and put him in such a predicament?

/Oh, baby, I know you are, don’t lie to me!/

‘Uh-oh’ Tala thinks, because this sounds dangerously like Bryan is going to hit him below the belt, straight to Tala’s kink of belonging. Tala could come from the thoughts only, from the knowledge of belonging to someone, and with Bryan this particular kink of his has basically skyrocketed.

/Pretty, adorable little things like you shouldn’t lie.. not to the person they belong to…/

‘Oh no, please, Bryan, don’t go there’

/And you belong to me, don’t you?/

‘Bastard’ Tala mentally swears, and inevitably reads the message again and has to fight down a moan.

‘Oh god’

/Bryan, please/ he types, and who cares if he’s admitting that he’s lost the fight. He knows that the situation is escalating quickly, and has long gone out of his hands. Has literaly already flown out the window, really.

/Are you that hard, baby? Have you soaked your pretty pants already?/

“Taras, do you feel well?”

To Tala’s credit, he doesn’t start, he doesn’t flinch, he doesn’t react in any way that might let out how completely taken by surprise he was, by this clear voice ringing so close to his working desk.

He is way proud of his reflexes, and once again can’t help thanking the gods aboive for making him the steel-willed person he’s become, even thank the Abbey’s crazy training, because, no way in hell he could have otherwise avoided getting caught by his boss.

His grips tighten slightly on his phone, but it’s barely a perceivable movement, and he blinks the lust out of is eyes a couple of time while straightening his shoulders and raising his head to meet his boss’.

Nikolay Vassilivovich is a tall, slim man, with light gray hair and silver, deep eyes. He is the kind of person whose facial traits reflect their owner’s integrity and morals, and they contribute into making him a terrifying, handsome man of a certain age, who still manages to be probably the most powerful and respected lawyer of all Russia. Mr. Vassilivovich is famous for winning basically every case he has accepted for the past twenty years, and, incidentally, he is also the only person in this world who insists in calling Tala by the very Russian version of his name, Taras, instead of using the nickname he’s been called with, for more than half his life.

“I’m sorry, sir. What?” he asks, then he promptly remembers what the old man has asked him, and quickly adds: “Oh. Oh, no, but, just a headache. I haven’t slept really well”

Mr. Vassilivovich nods sympathetically, and his thin lips open in a tiny, but real, smile.

“Troubles at home? Is your family alright? I hope nothing else is coming up, now that we finally managed to push down Balkov’s lawyers. I told you there is no way he is ever getting out from jail… not until I am breathing”

Tala smiles a very honestly felt smile. Mr. Vassilivovich is actually the lawyer that has helped Tala and the Demolition Boys to win the trails against Boris. If it hasn’t been for the powerful, kind man, they would have probably lost, soon or later. Instead, backed by the incredible legal skills and team of Mr. Vassilivovich, Boris is now spending the rest of his life in prison, with no chance to put his hands on them, or the kids, ever again.

The most spectacular detail about the whole thing, is that Mr. Vassilivovich popped literally out of nothing: he showed up at the Boys’ door, as soon as he heard they wanted to press charges against Boris, and proceeded to help them.

Tala doesn't know what has he done to deserve the incredible amount of respect this man seems to feel for him, in particular, and in general for the rest of the Demolition Boys and the kids, but, he’s really glad he, and they, can count on his support.

He feels a bit guilty for lying to the man in such a blatant way, but, he could hardly tell him the truth.

Tala shakes his head. He puts down his phone, closing the conversation with Bryan with his thumb.

“It’s not Boris, no” he answers: “And I could never stop thanking you for that, sir”

Mr. Vassilivovich nods in his way to signify ‘nonsense’, and prompts him to go on.

“It’s really more.. trivial, really. One of the kids I am directly responsible for is not feeling very good. I would say he’s coming down with something, but, as you know, we are a bit.. enhanced, and..” he trails off.

“And it’s really rare for you all to get sick” the man concludes for him: “but you are afraid he’s caught something, aren’t you?”

“I’m quite sure it’s something minor, but.. I am still a bit anxious, I guess. The kid still hasn’t recovered”

‘Tala, you dirty liar’ he scolds himself, and at the same time pats himself on the shoulder.

Mr. Vassilivovich nods sympathetically: “I know what you mean, Taras. You should probably go. Today it’s going to be a very slow day, anyway, and I bet you are more useful at home with that kid. It’s difficult to work, when you’re thinking that your child might be sick at home… Go, and let me know when the kid feels better”

He could French kiss this man.

“Thank you, sir. I will finish writing this paragraph and I’ll go”

Mr. Vassilivovich chuckles: “Always work first, uh? Very well, Taras. Have a good day”

“You too, sir”

The man leaves.

Tala, truth to his words, finishes writing his paragraph, and not so much as because he’s that dedicated to his job as Mr. Vassilivovich might think he is, but because he needs to cool down.

Then, as soon as he is able to stand up without a tent in his pants, he rushes up and leaves for the parking lot.

In the car, he taps at his phone and scrolls until he reaches the conversation with Bryan. /10 minutes/ he types, and carelessly throws the phone on the seat beside him.

He doesn't read the smiling emoji Bryan replies with, but, well.

He doesn’t really need to.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write a bit more about this AU, and also try writing something more… spicy, so, here we are. (I know there are going to be tons of typos. Never fear: I'll proceed to eliminate those bastards in the next few days. Hopefully.).


End file.
